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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054714">Baby, You're Like Lightning in a Bottle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bones_2_be/pseuds/bones_2_be'>bones_2_be</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All-Star Weekend A/B/O [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Golden State Warriors - Fandom, Men's Basketball RPF, NBA RPF, Sports RPF, Stephen Curry - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A/B/O, Affection, All-Star!LeBron, Don't Like Don't Read, Enthusiastic Consent, Fingering, LeBron did research but neither of these idiots really know what they're doing, LeBron is really really strong and Steph is into it, Lots of Firsts, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, NBA all-star weekend, NBA courtship rituals, Overstimulation, PWP, RPF, Rimming, a/b/o is not a personality trait, all star weekend 2010, alpha!LeBron, flirting with candy, omega!Steph, oversized bathtubs, rookie!Steph, so much communication</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:31:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bones_2_be/pseuds/bones_2_be</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steph's a rookie in the NBA and LeBron offers to get him through his heat at All-Star weekend. Steph takes him up on it.</p><p>In which Steph and LeBron don't know each other that well at all yet, but they're working on it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stephen Curry/LeBron James</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All-Star Weekend A/B/O [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Baby, You're Like Lightning in a Bottle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by conversations I had while working on the first fic in this collection. (looking at you, moons0ng!)</p><p>Unbeta'd, which always stresses me out at this length. Please message me if you see anything egregious. Or even just anything annoying. Title is from Børns "Electric Love."</p><p>Not real, never happened, not even physically possible. I know nothing of the inner lives of pro basketball players. If you know anyone mentioned herein, please leave now and never speak of this again.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s not until the security guard that escorted Steph to LeBron’s room has left him in front of the door with a polite, <em>“Have a good evening, Mr. Curry,”</em> that Steph thinks to have a panic attack. In the moment between when he knocks on LeBron’s door and when it swings open, he wildly wonders if he should’ve done anything more than shower, if he should’ve brought anything other than his overnight bag, if LeBron would expect him to have toys, or lube. If he should’ve asked.</p><p>“Stephen Curry,” LeBron greets him, smiling wide as he opens the door. “C’mon in.” They do a half-court bro hug, LeBron clapping him firm on the back before leading him on into the room.</p><p>Suite, really. There’s at least two rooms Steph can’t see, and Dallas may not be the most spectacular skyline but get twenty floors up anywhere at night and floor-to-ceiling windows will have a nice view.</p><p>“Damn,” Step says, “guess being the best player in the league does get you some perks.”</p><p>LeBron offers him a lopsided smile. “I upgraded for you.”</p><p>It’s the kind of thing that could be a joke, but Steph gets the sense isn’t. It catches him off-guard.  </p><p>“You played great tonight,” he says, pivoting. LeBron’s already changed out of his uniform, showered. Steph fights off disappointment he won’t be able to smell the game on him.</p><p>“You probably had the better weekend overall,” LeBron counters, grinning as he walks over to sit on the couch. “Rookies win for the first time in seven years, show out in the three-point contest?”</p><p>Steph flushes with pride as he joins him. “I’ll get ‘em next time.”</p><p>“Bet you will,” LeBron replies. There’s a silence between them, like neither quite knows what comes next. Steph finds himself checking LeBron out everywhere but his face, looks up to catch LeBron doing the same thing, and they grin at each other.</p><p>“I wasn’t sure you were reading my signals at first,” LeBron tells him. “Thought I might have to get more obvious before I made the offer.”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Steph admits, laughs a little. “My dad told me after we left your game, <em>‘You know that man’s courting you, don’t you?’</em> I’m like, courting? He had to spell it out for me.”</p><p>LeBron flushes, ducks his head in a laugh. “Dell’s Beta, right?”</p><p>Steph nods. “And my brother. But you know, being in the league, he knew guys.”</p><p>“For sure,” LeBron says. He pauses then, looks like maybe he doesn’t want to ask the next question. “And your dad, he’s uh, he’s cool with you being here?”</p><p>“Well I didn’t exactly ask his permission,” Steph returns drily, arches an eyebrow as LeBron cracks up. “I mean, who talks to their parents about their sex life? C’mon, man.” Steph feels himself relaxing into the banter. This is what its always been like with LeBron, wisecracks and talking each other up. He can work with this.</p><p>“Hey, you can read a lot between the lines with what your parents think is a wise decision,” LeBron protests through his laughter.</p><p>“Ain’t that the truth,” Steph says, flashing to the look his parents had shared when he’d informed them he was moving to a dual-heat schedule. “It was a lot easier in college.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t know,” LeBron tells him, draping his arm along the back of the couch so his fingertips brush Steph’s shoulder.</p><p>“S’different for Alphas anyway,” Steph replies, shifting into the touch. “Ya’ll can play right through a rut.”</p><p>“More likely to foul out,” LeBron counters with a grin. “More likely to get a tech.”</p><p>“Figure that’s ya’ll being all aggro or the refs scenting you?”</p><p>“Probably both,” LeBron says. “Course in the game it always feels like they’re out for you.”</p><p>“I bet,” Steph says.</p><p>LeBron slides his hand down so it rests fully on Steph’s shoulder, thumb sweeping slowly up and down from his collarbone. Steph watches his hand for a minute, watches the muscles in his hand flex and shift with each movement. Then he looks up at LeBron’s face, gaze locked intent on Steph. He lets his eyes trace the close-shaven line of LeBron’s beard from the corner of his jaw forward to his lips, slightly parted, and then back up to meet LeBron’s eyes.</p><p>“Like what you see?” LeBron asks, voice pitching deeper than it had been. And yeah Steph has known LeBron is an Alpha, that’s sort of the point of what they’re doing here, but he hadn’t <em>felt</em> it until right then, when LeBron’s tone and scent and proximity catch up to him all at once.</p><p>He nods, flushes at the rush of heat through his body and the sudden seeping wetness in his pants.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says. He feels like he’s on fire where LeBron is touching him, shifts closer and turns to nose at LeBron’s hand on his shoulder. He watches LeBron’s face as he brushes his mouth across his knuckles, pleased at the way LeBron’s eyes go dark and sharp.</p><p>LeBron slides his hand from Steph’s shoulder to his jaw, rubs his thumb across his lips and then drags it down, so he pulls at Steph’s bottom lip. Steph chases the movement, presses a sloppy kiss to the pad of LeBron’s thumb, half-sucking on it as he kisses again and teases along the finger with his tongue.</p><p>“Goddamn,” LeBron says, sounds like he’s had the wind knocked out of him when he draws his hand back.</p><p>Steph’s not sensitive to his own scent, but he can smell himself, feel how wet he’s gotten every time he shifts. He feels a rush of embarrassment at how fast it’s come on, pushes through it by leaning forward and kissing LeBron, anchoring himself in doing something.</p><p>It’s a bad angle, at first. He gets too much of LeBron’s upper lip and the rasp of his moustache is strange. LeBron tilts his head to meet him and it’s better, and LeBron cups the back of Steph’s head with one of his broad hands and moves Steph and then it’s real good. LeBron is keeping it PG-13, pressing kisses to Steph without opening his mouth, and Steph noses at the seam of his lips, teases him with his tongue and presses open-mouthed kisses against him. He finally whines in frustration, fisting his hand in LeBron’s t-shirt to pull him closer, and LeBron chuckles and parts his lips under Steph’s assault. He tastes like wine and spearmint and something else Steph thinks he might chase for the rest of his life, and he has to actively remember to breathe.</p><p>“You kiss like you’re starving for it,” LeBron says when they break apart, foreheads touching.</p><p>Steph flushes, unsure if that’s a good thing. “You don’t kiss at a clinic,” he says. And even though he’s kissed guys before, had sex outside the clinic, he’s never done this with anyone else. Never like this.</p><p>About a thousand things go through LeBron’s eyes in a flash and he tugs Steph forward, adjusts them until Steph is straddling him on the couch with his knees right up against Lebron’s hips.</p><p>“Don’t ever lose that,” he says, and pulls him back down for more.</p><p>This close, Steph can smell LeBron’s body, the heady scent of Alpha better than any cologne. Tells himself its for him, he’s getting this response from <em>LeBron James</em>. He can’t help the moan that escapes at that.</p><p>“Yeah,” LeBron says, encouraging. He slides his hands down Steph’s back and they rest at Steph’s hips, fingers splayed along either side of his spine.</p><p>It’s suddenly not enough for Steph, and he pushes up, breaking the kiss to sit back on his heels. LeBron looks confused, until Steph reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off overhead. There’s a brief moment where Steph is worried about LeBron’s reaction, knows he’s not much to look at. He forces himself not to look away from LeBron’s face. This is all he’s got to work with.</p><p>“You’ve filled out,” LeBron says, appraising, lets his fingers trail across Steph’s taut stomach and up over his pecs, firm down his sides to feel out his lats and obliques. He looks up when Steph can’t help but exhale in relief, leans up in an impressive display of his own abdominal strength to press a kiss near the base of his sternum.</p><p>“Your turn,” Steph says, reaching down between them to tug at the hem of LeBron’s shirt. He works it off overhead, lets it fall behind the couch once he gets free of it. He’s got on a simple gold chain that rests just below his clavicle and leaves his arms stretched overhead, totally open to Steph. He smiles like he knows what kind of an invitation it is.</p><p>LeBron’s big. And Steph has talked with him, played him, so of course he has a sense of his size. It’s different here though, straddling him, being the singular focus of that formidable strength, thinking about the implications of how broad he is. Steph slides his hands up LeBron’s chest, braces himself and leans forward to press a kiss right above his waistband. He pauses there, inhales LeBron’s scent and noses in against the soft skin, the trail of hair disappearing into LeBron’s sweats. He smiles at the shuddering breath LeBron takes under him and kisses him again before continuing up along his body.</p><p>He nips at his belly-button, playful, kisses up the line of his abs. Steph’s never had anyone play with his nipples, never done it, but he hears good things, and so he gets his mouth on one of LeBron’s, flicks it with his tongue first and then sucks.</p><p>LeBron’s hands snap forward from over his head, one gripping the couch and the other cradling Steph’s head.</p><p>“Fuck, Steph,” he says, and when Steph glances up at his face, to make sure it’s good, LeBron is staring at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen.</p><p>Steph keeps eye contact as he moves to the other nipple, and LeBron’s eyes flutter closed with a groan when Steph sucks on it and tugs. LeBron’s hips jerk up, and Steph feels his erection and the need that hits him then is something powerful.</p><p>He drops his head to LeBron’s shoulder, mouthing at his neck, and they’re skin on skin from hip to chest. That alone is so good, better when LeBron catches his hip and rocks up against him.</p><p>“Gotta tell me what you want,” LeBron says, another slow roll of his hips against Steph’s. “Wanna make you feel good.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Steph says. “Just want you.”</p><p>LeBron’s hips stutter at that, and he exhales slow. Steph can feel his breath ghosting across his face and shoulder.</p><p>“At the clinic,” he says, sliding a hand down to cup Steph’s ass, “how many times do you come before you take a knot?”</p><p>Steph flushes. He’s never looked up what’s average, no idea what LeBron’s expecting here.</p><p>“Use your words, Steph,” LeBron tells him. It’s half a tease, half a command, and Steph’s stomach flips in response, a gut-punched whine slipping past his lips. He tips his head back without thinking about it, grateful beyond words when LeBron noses in under his chin, mouths along the column of his throat. “How many times?” he asks again.</p><p>“Bout five,” Steph answers.</p><p>“Sexy as hell,” LeBron says, although it’s not clear if it’s a response to Steph himself or his answer to the question. Steph decides it doesn’t exactly matter, thrusts forward against LeBron off-rhythm, so their erections brush against each other.</p><p>Steph bites his lip and looks down at the chain, resting now in the hollow of LeBron’s throat.</p><p>“I wanna come,” he says.</p><p>“Yeah,” LeBron looks him over, nods. “Should take this to the bedroom.”</p><p>Steph tries not to pout, doesn’t exactly see why relocation is necessary but damn near comes anyway when LeBron gets his hand fully under Steph’s ass and <em>stands up</em>. Steph locks his legs around LeBron’s back and steadies himself on his shoulder.</p><p>“Oh, fuck you,” he says, but he’s laughing.</p><p>LeBron looks stupidly pleased with himself, one hand supporting Steph under his thighs and the other splayed across the center of his back.</p><p>“You like that?” he asks, careful as he makes his way into the bedroom.</p><p>“S’pretty hot,” Steph admits, grinning, leans down to capture LeBron’s mouth in a kiss. In this position his erection is trapped between their bodies, and he rocks his hips to rub his dick against the solid muscle of LeBron’s abdomen. “Can I come like this?”  </p><p>LeBron walks them so Steph’s back is to a wall, gives him something to help take the weight, and nods against his mouth.</p><p>“Go ahead,” he tells him, both hands under Steph now, supporting.</p><p>Steph puts his arms around LeBron’s back and works his hips, biting his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood in an effort to stifle the embarrassing noises he can feel caught in his chest.</p><p>“Nuh-uh,” LeBron says, once he notices. “Lemme hear you.”</p><p>Steph knows he’s blushing all the way down his body as his breathing turns harsh, broken groans tearing from his throat. The friction with his boxers is too much, the fabric is soaking, and it catches him up.</p><p>“Can I,” he starts to ask, bringing a hand between their bodies.</p><p>“Anything,” LeBron cuts him off, nods into his collarbone. “Anything.”</p><p>Steph manages to get his sweats and boxers shoved down just far enough, gets his dick out so it’s caught between his own overheated body and LeBron’s chest, now glistening in the sweat-sheen of exertion.</p><p>Steph’s head thumps back against the wall and he rocks himself against LeBron, trying not to make him work too hard but rapidly losing the ability to control his movement.</p><p>“There you go,” LeBron says, pressing him back to the wall so he doesn’t have as far to go to get the pressure he’s desperate for.</p><p>“Please,” Steph sobs out, “Fuck, <em>please</em>, Bron.”</p><p>LeBron can’t do much for him at this angle, but he starts sucking a mark low on Steph’s neck and Steph’s hips catch and stutter wildly as he comes, and his legs are probably too tight around LeBron’s back to be pleasant but he can’t help it, and keening sounds and LeBron’s name spill from his lips as he thrusts through his orgasm.</p><p>LeBron holds him up against the wall until Steph seems to have caught his breath, slowly helps him slide to the ground. Steph feels unsteady on his legs, but LeBron’s thighs are shaking too and that’s so hot he feels his dick twitch, even though it’s way too fast, even in a heat.</p><p>“Let me,” Steph says, and slides to his knees. LeBron’s stomach is smeared with Steph’s come, and he’s covered in sweat, breath coming hard, and Steph has never been as turned on by anything in his life.</p><p>“Steph,” LeBron says, like he’s going to tell him to wait, or something else stupid like that. Steph pauses with his fingers in LeBron’s waistband.</p><p>“You want it?” he asks. “I wanna suck you off.”</p><p>“Yeah,” LeBron says, nodding. “Hell yeah, okay.”</p><p>Steph pulls LeBron’s sweats down slow, mouthing along his dick as the fabric gradually exposes him, until the tip bobs free and Steph works LeBron’s pants down the rest of the way. LeBron kicks them off to the side with one foot as Steph takes LeBron’s dick in hand, stroking a few times to get a feel for him. He’s bigger than Steph’s had, big period, but Steph’s more intimidated about the idea of getting him in his mouth than taking him inside.</p><p>His dick is already leaking precome, and he’s hard enough Steph figures it won’t take too much. He runs his lips along LeBron’s length, from tip to base and back up again. He can taste the salt of sweat and precome gather on his tongue, and it’s not his favorite, but he inhales LeBron’s scent and it’s so strong here he feels dizzy. He parts his lips to let LeBron thrust into his mouth, shallow. LeBron rests one hand on Steph’s head, the other cups his face, stroking along his jaw, tracing along Steph’s lips where they’re stretched around LeBron’s dick.</p><p>Steph focuses on keeping his teeth to himself, tries to use his tongue to his advantage, slipping around the smooth head of LeBron’s dick and tracing along the vein on the underside. He has to pull off a few times, catch his breath.</p><p>“So good,” LeBron murmurs, has been encouraging him the whole time. His breath is coming ragged, and Steph figures he’s close, even though he hasn’t said.</p><p>Steph’s been keeping a hand on LeBron throughout, knows his hands are dry, knows the friction’s going to be a turnoff soon. He doesn’t want to stop and ask if Bron’s got lotion or lube somewhere, not when he’s so close, so he slips a hand between his legs and smears it through his own slick as he takes LeBron back into his mouth, reaches up to jerk him off with that.</p><p>LeBron swears, fist thudding against the wall and he barely manages to pull out of Steph’s mouth before he comes, catching Steph on the lips and chest. It takes Steph by surprise, but he keeps stroking as LeBron’s dick twitches in his hand, his chest heaving, until LeBron reaches down and catches his hand, pulls it away.</p><p>“C’mere,” he says, tugging Steph up to his feet. “Fuck, Steph,” he mutters, flushing as he wipes at Steph’s face with the side of his thumb. “I didn’t mean for that.”</p><p>“Damn,” Steph says, ducking his chin so he looks up at him through his eyelashes, “thought it was hot.”</p><p>LeBron makes a wounded noise and kisses him, and he cups Steph’s face with his messy hand, thoughtless, so Steph turns away from the kiss and licks at the side of his hand. The taste doesn’t do anything for him, but the low rumble LeBron makes sure as hell does.</p><p>“Filthy,” LeBron tells him, chuckles as he bodies in against him, presses him back to the wall, “jerking me off with your own damn slick.” He shakes his head. “Tryna kill me or something.”</p><p>Steph preens under the praise, can feel himself getting riled up again as LeBron runs his hands over his chest.</p><p>“M’gonna go get a washcloth,” LeBron says. “We’re gonna be disgusting.”</p><p>Steph nods, and follows LeBron into the bathroom even though he realizes, somewhat belatedly, he probably didn’t mean for him to. LeBron pours them each a glass of water, downs his in one gulp and has another. Steph nurses his while LeBron runs the water in the sink to warm.</p><p>There’s a massive tub that LeBron catches Steph staring at, grins at him.</p><p>“Yeah, we can have some fun with that later,” he says, offers Steph a damp washcloth in exchange for his empty glass.</p><p>They wipe themselves down, and Steph takes the opportunity to strip all the way. He feels LeBron’s gaze on him, intense, and watches his eyes until they finally track all the way back up to his face.</p><p>“You’re so sexy,” LeBron says, quiet, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe it.  </p><p>Steph blushes, pleased. “Says you,” he counters, crossing the space between them to rest his hand on LeBron’s bicep. “I mean. Damn, man.”</p><p>LeBron chuckles, slides his hands around Steph’s body and hooks them low on his back, fingers brushing the top of his ass. LeBron lowers his head and Steph opens his mouth for the lazy kiss LeBron gives him. It’s getting easier to get the angles right, figuring out where they are together. Steph likes that.</p><p>LeBron pulls back, smiling. “You ready for another round?”</p><p>Steph nods, chases his lips for another kiss.</p><p>“Good,” LeBron says. “Cuz I think I wanna make you come on my fingers, and then maybe my tongue. See how it goes. Sound good?”</p><p>Steph nods again, and now they’re both naked he knows it’s more obvious how wet he is. He wonders if he’ll need as many with Bron as he does in a clinic, feels like he could probably take a knot right now, even though realistically he knows better. He wants it.</p><p>“C’mon,” Bron slow-walks them backwards out of the bathroom, turns to lead Steph over to the massive bed.</p><p>Steph crawls onto the bed, lies down with his legs parted and waits for LeBron. LeBron grabs a small black overnight bag and gets up on the bed with Steph, lies down next to him but leans over so he’s up on his elbows, arms on either side of Steph.</p><p>“What’s in the bag?” Steph asks, reaches up between them to curl his fingers around LeBron’s chain.</p><p>LeBron lowers himself to press a kiss to either side of Steph’s chest, kisses him slow and deep on the mouth.</p><p>“Lube,” he says, kisses Steph again, “toys.”</p><p>Steph feels a twinge of disappointment. It’s not that he’s opposed, exactly. He’s gotten a lot of mileage out of dildos and vibrators at the clinics, where the attendants are supposed to stay hands-off until nothing will do it but a knot, but that’s not what he wanted with LeBron.</p><p>“Okay,” he says, and LeBron must read something on his face because he raises up a little, tips his head.</p><p>“That good?” he asks.</p><p>Steph nods. It is. It’s fine. Whatever LeBron has in mind he’s sure will be fine.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says, smiles and tries to make it reach his eyes.</p><p>“You don’t seem into it,” LeBron says, obviously skeptical. “It’s cool if you don’t wanna use them.”</p><p>“I’d rather not,” Steph admits, staring at LeBron’s chest.</p><p>“That’s cool, man,” LeBron replies, like it’s that easy. He takes the lube from the bag and pushes it to the edge of the bed behind him, but Steph can’t shake the worry he’s disappointed him somehow.</p><p>“It’s fine if you want to,” he says, as LeBron pops the cap on the lube, can’t help himself. “I’ve used toys a lot.”</p><p>“Whatever you want, Steph. I’m not trying to make you beg,” LeBron tells him, pausing. He sounds confused. “I need some direction from you here is all.”</p><p>Steph isn’t quite meeting his gaze when he shrugs, feels somehow smaller than he is. “I’m kinda out of my league,” he says. "Never done this before."</p><p>“You figure I do this a lot?” LeBron asks, playful, poking at Steph’s side.</p><p>“You’re the MVP,” Steph replies, defensive and sharper than he means to be.</p><p>“So I regularly go pick some college player and take the time to go to his games and all that? With all my free time?” And LeBron’s still trying to keep it light, but there’s something in his voice that makes Steph meet his eyes, see something there that looks like hurt.</p><p>“Well when you put it like that,” Steph says, feels cornered and a bit stupid. He tries to elaborate. “You’ve been in the league a minute is all, I know I’m not special.” LeBron looks like Steph’s just slapped him, and Steph’s horrified to feel tears stinging his eyes, because none of this is a big deal and it’s obvious now he’s upset LeBron and he wants to take it back to two minutes ago and not be an idiot about a fucking dildo.</p><p>There’s a painfully long pause, in which Steph wishes they weren’t naked, debates leaving, debates apologizing- though he’s not sure exactly what for, and questions every life choice he’s made in the last 48 hours. Then LeBron settles down with his body covering Steph, propped up on one elbow so their faces are close but they don’t have to stare each other full-on.</p><p>“That your dad talking?” He asks, “About you not being special?”</p><p>Steph's throat feels thick. He nods.</p><p>His dad wasn't being mean about it, had been trying to help keep his expectations in check. It’s not like Steph thought LeBron meant anything much by the offer anyway, not really, but the reminder that LeBron had access to whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, had been stark. Steph had tried not to let it dampen his enthusiasm too much.</p><p>LeBron nods slowly back, runs his tongue along his top teeth under his lip.</p><p>“Never been anybody’s first heat before,” he says at last. Then waves his hand, corrects himself. “Not that I’m your first. First heat outside a clinic. First heat in the NBA.” He pauses for a minute, lets Steph process that information. “You want me to drive, I’ll drive, I did some research and all that. I want it to be good for you.”</p><p>“Research?” Steph asks, clinging to the olive branch like a life preserver. “What kinda research?”</p><p>“I know how to use the damn internet,” LeBron teases. Then he smiles at him, soft. “Wanna make it good, Steph.”</p><p>Steph shakes his head, leans up to catch LeBron’s mouth and stays half-pushed up on his forearms until LeBron rolls them back down to the bed.</p><p>“Gotta get you outta your head,” he mumbles against Steph’s lips, peppers kisses along his jaw and then down the side of his neck.</p><p>“You have to use dildos all the time at the clinic,” Steph says, hands sliding across LeBron’s back. “I just want you.”</p><p>LeBron nods against him, “S’all you had to say.” He sets his teeth to the mark he’d started working earlier, low on Steph’s neck right above the clavicle. “And for what it’s worth, you’re pretty damn special,” he adds, nipping at him for punctuation.</p><p>Steph smiles at that, goofy, and when LeBron pulls up from where he’s left a purpling mark on Steph’s chest his smile mirrors Steph’s.</p><p>“You better hope my uniform covers that,” Steph groans.</p><p>“I hope like hell it doesn’t,” LeBron laughs, trails a hand down Steph’s body to rest on his inner thigh.</p><p>Steph spreads his legs wider under the touch, inviting. LeBron’s hand is warm against him, fingers massaging into the muscle Steph has worked hard to develop.</p><p>LeBron brings the lube with him as he moves to get between Steph’s legs.</p><p>“Back or stomach?” he asks.</p><p>Steph hesitates. He wants to watch, but he knows how he likes it best.</p><p>“Stomach,” he replies, somewhat begrudgingly, and settles in, hugging a pillow up under his head so he can prop up on something and look over his shoulder if he wants.</p><p>LeBron nudges his legs wide, snags one of the flat pillows and slides it under Steph’s hips, gets himself an easier angle.</p><p>“There we go,” he says, approving. He spreads Steph’s asscheeks with his hands, hums, and kneads his fists into the flesh of Steph’s ass.</p><p>“Hidin’ that under your uniform,” he teases. “Not fair.”</p><p>Steph shakes his head, laughing. Wonders what he’d have to do to get a turn at LeBron’s ass someday, before he realizes he’s already thinking ahead to some other time and thinks that’s probably presumptuous. LeBron pulls him out of his head by leaning forward and sweeping his tongue across Steph’s hole.</p><p>“Fuck,” he exclaims, hips jolting forward into the pillow. “Warn a guy,” he jokes. Nobody’s ever done this for Steph before, and he knows it’s something people do, but he feels dizzy with the thought of it.</p><p>LeBron chuckles, obvious pleased with himself, and gets a better grip on Steph, one arm across his lower back and the other spreading his cheeks, giving himself access. He nuzzles in against Steph’s entrance, and his breath feels furnace hot in the relative cool of the hotel room. His tongue darts out, around, near, but not directly against Steph’s hole, teasing. It’s weird, but it’s good, and Steph blushes all the way down his body as slick seeps out of his hole in response.</p><p>“Yeah, baby,” LeBron breathes, barely audible, and he licks at Steph’s hole then, catching the slick on his tongue and smearing it back up and across his entrance. The broad flat of his tongue is a delicious friction, but it doesn’t take long for Steph to need more, and he starts pressing back against him, searching.</p><p>“You wanna ask me for something?” LeBron asks, nipping at the flesh of Steph’s ass.</p><p>“Gonna make me come on your tongue, remember?”</p><p>“Don’t think you can come like this?” LeBron licks at him again and Steph whines, twists over his shoulder to meet LeBron’s playful smile.</p><p>“I want your tongue in me,” he says, feels filthy and powerful saying it out loud.</p><p>LeBron grins at him. “Good boy.”</p><p>Steph groans and buries his face in the pillow, but mercy of mercies LeBron doesn’t toy with him anymore. He brings his hands in close, thumbs spreading Steph’s hole out, and pushes his tongue into him.</p><p>“Oh fuck yes,” Steph exhales, tries to make sure LeBron can hear him with his face smothered in the pillow. “So good.”</p><p>He’d swear he can feel LeBron’s smile against his ass. LeBron takes a minute working Steph’s hole, spears his tongue in and out to some internal rhythm, and then he sets to it and eats him out like he’s been waiting for it all night.</p><p>Steph is shaking under LeBron before long, trying to keep pushing back so LeBron can keep his mouth on him but also trying to rub his dick against the pillow, get enough friction to come.</p><p>He reaches a hand back to help himself along and LeBron reaches up and catches his hand.</p><p>“Nuh-uh,” he admonishes, and Steph pulls his hand back up to pillow under his head. “You close?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph nods, knows his face is probably red and creased from being smashed into the pillow.</p><p>“I need it,” he says, feels frayed, a livewire.</p><p>“Okay,” LeBron nods, runs a soothing hand across Steph’s back. He seems to get where Steph is. “I got you.” He tugs Steph’s hips back and up, so he’s lifted off the pillow with his ass in the air. He slides a hand along Steph’s back, encouraging him to arch out, and Steph feels slutty and exposed, but LeBron loops one arm across the front of his thighs to pull him in close, and with the other hand spreads Steph’s hole out again.</p><p>For a few horrible moments Steph thinks LeBron is fucking with him, because now he doesn’t have any friction, anything at all to thrust against, and a sob of frustration tears from his throat just as LeBron reaches around with the hand that had been holding him open, gathering slick, and closes his fist around his dick. LeBron keeps his tongue inside him, as deep as he’s gotten all night, and Steph’s hands claw desperately into the comforter as he comes.</p><p>He’s gulping air, manages to twist his head to the side so he isn’t trying to inhale through a down pillow, and there’s tear tracks on his face when the aftershocks subside, when his thighs stop quivering and LeBron gentles him to the bed, rolls him so he’s on his back and he can shove the ruined pillow to the floor.</p><p>“You’re a Wildcat for damn sure,” LeBron says, and Steph chokes out a laugh at his terrible pun. His whole body feels hypersensitive, needy. He seeks LeBron’s mouth for a kiss, but LeBron turns his head and Steph catches him on the jaw. “Gotta clean up before that,” he says, apologetic. Which. Isn’t something Steph would’ve thought of.</p><p>“Take long?” he asks, weighing his desire to stick his tongue down LeBron’s throat with the thought of losing his physical presence.</p><p>LeBron shakes his head. “Mouthwash,” he says. “Want me to go take care of it?”</p><p>Steph nods, thinks he must look a little fragile or something from the way LeBron lets his touch linger as he climbs out of the bed. The sink runs the whole time he’s in the bathroom and when he returns, he’s got a glass of water for Steph. Steph lets LeBron help him sit up, leans against him while he downs the glass. When LeBron lays them back down, he reaches over Steph to set it on the bedside table. His wingspan is a thing of beauty.</p><p>“You good?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph nods. “Need this,” he says, and pulls LeBron in for a kiss. It’s less frenzied than some of their earlier make-outs, but no less intense. LeBron’s propped up on one elbow next to Steph, and Steph has turned his whole body in against LeBron. They break apart for air at some point and Steph realizes he’s cold, body shivering in spite of himself.</p><p>“I’ll get the thermostat,” LeBron says, slipping out of bed again, but the furrow in his brow lets Steph know it’s him, not the room.</p><p>LeBron comes back in from the living room with a CLIF bar and a bag of sour patch kids. It’s not till he gets closer Steph sees they’re Maynards, and his heart flips.</p><p>“Those for me?” he asks.</p><p>LeBron holds up the bag. “These?” He grins at Steph’s wide eyes. “Hell yeah.” He jerks his head toward the bed. “Get under the covers.”</p><p>Steph dives to do as directed, scrambling under the comforter and flipping the corner back for LeBron to join him. He reaches out, disappointed when LeBron hands him the CLIF bar first.</p><p>“Couple bites of that,” LeBron tells him, settling in next to him under the covers and flipping on the TV. “I think your blood sugar’s crashing, got you all shocky.”</p><p>Steph’s surprised he hadn’t realized it himself, but LeBron’s right. He’s less begrudging as he opens the CLIF bar, keeps one eye on the bag of candy in LeBron’s lap and the other on the ESPN, running recaps of the weekend.</p><p>Steph curls in against LeBron’s chest as he eats, head on his shoulder. LeBron drapes his arm around Steph, holds him close. It’s easy, like they’ve done this before, like they fit. Steph finishes the CLIF bar without really thinking about it, then glances down again at the candy again, hopeful.</p><p>LeBron laughs. “It’s all for you, man, just share a few.”</p><p>“Where’d you even get these?” Steph asks, tearing gleefully into the bag.</p><p>“You do know the internet exists, right?” LeBron teases, smiles at him, fond.</p><p>Steph wants to ask how LeBron knew, if he asked his teammates, or his dad. He’s pretty sure he’s never talked about it in an interview, this holdover love from his time in Canada. It would’ve been so much easier to grab a bag of whatever American brand from Walgreens. Steph’s not sure he has a name for how the gesture makes him feel.</p><p>He pops one of the candies into his mouth, lets the flavor burst on his tongue, that sour that makes his jaw tingle. Then he holds one up to LeBron’s mouth, grins as he makes a show of curling his tongue around it to take it from Steph’s fingers.</p><p>They go through the bag like that, Steph taking two or three to every one he offers LeBron, especially once he realizes that LeBron really did just get them for him. They’re about done when Steph feels his eyes getting heavy. LeBron must be exhausted, he realizes. It’s well after midnight and he’s been going all day, all weekend.</p><p>“We could sleep,” he says.</p><p>LeBron looks at him, evaluating. “You sure?” he asks. “Think you’ll be good?”</p><p>Steph tries to do an honest self-assessment, figures the fact he’s too tired to focus is probably answer enough.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says. “And if I wake up in the middle of the night and need a round, I know how to get myself off.”</p><p>LeBron shakes his head. “You wake up and you need it, you get me up, okay?”</p><p>Steph hesitates, but nods.</p><p>They take turns in the bathroom, and when Steph comes out in boxers and an oversized Davidson t-shirt, he finds LeBron has collected the clothes they’d dropped around the suite and turned off most of the lights. He’s in boxers, and nothing else, and hesitates by the bed when he sees Steph staring at him.</p><p>“This okay?” he asks.</p><p>Steph nods, wordless. He’s never seen LeBron like this, half-dressed in warm light, soft. Maybe tomorrow they should leave the lights down.</p><p>“Yeah,” he finally manages. “Just looking at you.”</p><p>LeBron’s face breaks into a grin and he looks down, obviously pleased. “C’mon man,” he says. “Let’s get to bed.”</p><p>They get in bed together, and Steph gets caught up for a minute trying to figure out if he gets to cuddle LeBron before deciding that’s probably an acceptable perk of this whole heat thing. LeBron makes a pleased noise when Steph presses back against him, and they settle in, easy, Steph’s back snug up against LeBron’s chest.</p><p>“G’night, Steph,” LeBron says.</p><p>Steph means to reply, but he couldn’t say for sure he gets the words out before he falls asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Steph wakes up too warm, covers pooling at his waist. He tries to turn and is briefly confused to find his movement restricted.</p><p>“Morning,” LeBron says behind him, stretching slowly.</p><p>It all comes back then, LeBron, everything they did last night, and the second wave of Steph’s heat, which is in full effect now. He’s already wet, soaking the sheets, and he groans softly, a mix of need and embarrassment.</p><p>“Morning,” he replies, wonders if it’s fair to jump LeBron within a minute of waking up.</p><p>“Sleep well?” LeBron asks, puts his hands on Steph’s hips and scents the base of his neck. “Oh, damn baby,” he says, an appreciative murmur. “Want me to suck you off before breakfast?”</p><p>Steph rolls onto his back and looks up at him. LeBron’s eyes are still half-lidded from sleep but he’s fully interested in the proceedings, smiling mischievously down at Steph. Steph fights the urge to ask if LeBron’s sure, tells himself he wouldn’t offer if he wasn’t and nods instead.</p><p>LeBron leans in and kisses him, kisses down his jaw and nips at his chin. “Gonna let me take care of you?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph says, voice sleep-raspy. “I want that.”</p><p>He crosses his arms behind his head and props himself up on a pillow so he can watch as LeBron moves down his body, dragging the covers off as he goes.</p><p>LeBron pushes Steph’s oversize red Davidson shirt up past his bellybutton, scrapes his blunt nails gently back down the soft skin of his stomach until he gets to the waistband of his boxers. He pauses with his fingers hooked in the elastic and buries his face in the wet spot at the crotch, inhaling deeply.</p><p>“Bron,” Steph says, wrecked already. It’s surreal LeBron’s so into it, into him. He reminds himself they’re basically in a hotbox of his heat pheromones right now, tries not to take it personally.</p><p>LeBron mouths at Steph’s dick through his boxers, blissed out when he looks back up at him. Steph lifts his hips up, and LeBron obligingly tugs his soaking boxers down and helps Steph get them all the way off. He wraps his arms under Steph’s thighs and pulls him in close, nuzzling into the V of his legs and mouthing at the join of his thigh and groin, steadfastly ignoring Steph’s dick.</p><p>“C’mon,” Steph pleads. “Don’t play.”</p><p>LeBron looks like he wants to protest, but he presses one more kiss deep against the crease of Steph’s thigh and turns his attention to Steph’s balls. He’s still playing, but he’s closer to the target, and at least he gets his hand on Steph, fingertips stroking along his length. He takes Steph’s balls into his mouth one at a time, lets them slide back out with a wet pop. Steph’s gonna have to give that a try himself next time because it’s fucking incredible. He can’t even be mad LeBron’s not actually sucking him off yet.</p><p>And anyway, then he is, and unlike Steph’s faltering attempt to give LeBron something to get off to last night, LeBron is all in, right away. He takes Steph in until the head of his dick bumps against the back of his throat, and then he sucks, nostrils flaring as he breathes. Steph’s afraid to move, barely breathing himself until LeBron backs off, grins at him.</p><p>“You can fuck my mouth,” he tells him, smooths a hand across Steph’s stomach. “Or at least breathe. You’re not gonna hurt me.”</p><p>“You’re fucking incredible,” Steph tells him, completely serious.</p><p>LeBron laughs brightly and gets his mouth back on Steph. He doesn’t take him in quite as deep, but his cheeks hollow out as he sucks, and he makes eye contact with Steph as he bobs his head.</p><p>Steph rocks his hips up, catches the encouraging nod LeBron gives him, and tries to find a rhythm that works with what LeBron’s doing. What LeBron’s doing also involves rubbing the fingers of his free hand across Steph’s entrance, brushing through his slick without trying to press inside. Steph would swear he’s never felt anything so good in his life, wants to cry with the pleasure of it. He was halfway there before they even started, so when LeBron takes him all the way down again and eases a finger inside at the same time, Steph comes with a garbled shout, pulling a pillow down over his face as he fights not to buck up into LeBron’s mouth, hips stuttering and jerking anyway.</p><p>He’s still muttering curses and LeBron’s name into the pillow when LeBron tugs it away to uncover his face, laughing.</p><p>“You good up there?” he asks, wipes at his mouth.</p><p>“Oh,” Steph says stupidly as he realizes he didn’t exactly give LeBron any warning when he came. And then he’s all the way down to LeBron, searching out a kiss that’s all about tasting himself on LeBron’s tongue.</p><p>“Yeah?” LeBron asks, teasing, once they finally break apart.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph says, breathless, and kiss his him again. It’s sweeter, LeBron’s hand gentling on his cheek, fingers curled along his jaw. “Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Steph says, because it’s impolite, and he does know better.</p><p>“I was gonna swallow anyway,” LeBron tells him, serious even though he smiles at the shudder that ripples Steph’s body. Steph kisses him again, draws back and presses a kiss to his bottom lip before sitting back on his heels and tugs his shirt off, grins at the way LeBron's eyes track his movement.</p><p>“Breakfast?” Steph asks.</p><p>“You sure you don’t need another round first?” LeBron asks, looking him over.</p><p>Steph can feel the rose-flush lingering across his chest, but he nods anyway.</p><p>“I think if we don’t eat now, we might not until lunch,” He feels ravenous all over and he can’t imagine it’s going to let up.</p><p>LeBron nods, rouses himself to get the room service menu. They make their selections and LeBron calls down to order. It’s a huge amount of food, but Steph figures they can graze off it through the morning. Maybe they won’t have to take a break for a while. He looks at LeBron, lounging next to him in the bed.</p><p>“You have anything on the calendar today?” he asks.</p><p>LeBron tilts his head to look at him, forehead crinkling adorably in confusion. “Other than you?”</p><p>Steph shrugs, trails his fingertips across LeBron’s AKRON tattoo. “Dad said guys work their heat around media and whatnot. Wasn’t sure if you still had stuff to do for all-star.”</p><p>LeBron purses his lips, looks vaguely displeased. “Man, your dad had a lot of ideas about how this was gonna go.”</p><p>“He was trying to make sure I had my head on right,” Steph protests, defensive of his father. “I’m not gonna assume you have all this time for me.”</p><p>LeBron rolls onto his stomach and presses a kiss to Steph’s hip.</p><p>“I get that,” he says, placating. “Just seems like you came in with your head all up in knots ‘bout stuff you coulda just asked me.” He shifts, so his head is in Steph’s lap. “Anything else you been worrying about you haven’t told me?”</p><p>Steph reaches down to stroke LeBron’s head with one hand, lets the other rest on his chest.</p><p>“I’ve never taken a knot outside a clinic,” he says after a while, staring at LeBron’s lips to avoid eye contact, watches how they part slightly at the admission. “It didn’t seem like a good idea in college.” He pauses, chews on his lip. “I’m not sure what to expect,” he continues, when LeBron doesn’t say anything. “Cuz I’m used to everything being more or less decided for me, you know? They have a meal plan, they have a full four days where you’re paying them to be there, so.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s too much.”</p><p>When it’s clear Steph is done talking, LeBron clears his throat.</p><p>“I don’t have anywhere to be until Wednesday morning,” he says. “Figured for a first time it’d be nice not to have any interruptions.” He tilts his head so he can kiss Steph’s belly, facial hair rasping against his skin. “You can ask me for anything. Can’t imagine anything you’d want I wouldn’t at least try.” He looks back up at Steph, reaches up to hook Steph’s chin with his index finger and lead him into eye contact. He smiles when Steph finally meets his gaze again; his eyes are impossibly fond. “I’ve never done this either, exactly,” he continues, “but I think we’re doing pretty good so far.”</p><p>“Better than good,” Steph says emphatically, because it seems like that was maybe a question at the end there.</p><p>“Yeah?” LeBron asks, pushing up so he’s level with Steph again.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph affirms, eyes darting around LeBron’s face, settling on his mouth.</p><p>“Good,” LeBron says, cups his head and kisses him, light, sweet. He’s obviously not trying to start anything but Steph can feel himself heating up and reluctantly breaks the kiss.</p><p>“Gonna ride your knot so good later,” he says, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.</p><p>“Fuck, Steph,” LeBron exhales, noses at the shell of his ear, breath ghosting along his neck. “Food better get here pretty damn fast.”</p><p>“Maybe we could,” Steph begins, but groans when there’s a knock at the door.</p><p>
  <em>“Room service.” </em>
</p><p>“Soon,” LeBron says, a promise. He grabs a robe from the bathroom and heads into the living room.</p><p>Steph feels like he’s getting away with something, sitting naked in bed while LeBron and the bellhop are in the other room. He debates making LeBron bring him breakfast in bed, but they’ve got a table, and crumbs aren’t sexy so when he hears the door shut he snags the other robe and heads into the living room.</p><p>LeBron is standing in front of the door next to the dining car. His hands are closed into tight fists, head bowed.</p><p>“Bron?” Steph asks.</p><p>“Gimme a sec,” LeBron says, voice flat.</p><p>Which, does not work for Steph at all. He crosses the room, reaches out for LeBron’s hand and forces himself not to flinch at the way LeBron jerks under his touch. His eyes are black when he looks at Steph, and Alpha pheromones are rolling off him heavy and thick. Steph feels like he can taste it.</p><p>“I need,” LeBron says, cuts himself off with a shake of the head and turns away.</p><p>“Need what?” Steph asks, moving with him.</p><p>LeBron whirls, and has Steph up against the wall before he knows where they’re going. He pins Steph’s arms above his head with one hand and stares at him for half a second, looks as surprised as Steph feels.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph says, nods. He’s not sure what’s gotten into LeBron, but it’s doing it for him. He hasn’t been so pointedly aware of their size difference until now, with his arms stretched up overhead and LeBron covering him. LeBron’s eyes drop to Steph’s lips and he leans forward and plunges his tongue into Steph’s mouth. Steph gasps when LeBron cups his ass with his free hand and tugs him forward against his muscular thigh, flexing it against Steph’s rapidly hardening erection.</p><p>“Bron,” he says, licks his lips when LeBron breaks the kiss to bite down his neck. They feel swollen, sensitive. LeBron is working a suck mark high on Steph’s jugular, any pretense of subtlety gone, and Steph thrusts helplessly against LeBron’s thigh.</p><p>Steph’s realizing slightly late that he might be in over his head here, has never had this kind of aggressive attention turned his way. He wonders if LeBron might be near his rut. He tugs at his arms experimentally, a little shocked when LeBron growls against his throat. He can’t move his arms at all, LeBron’s grip like iron.</p><p>“Fuck,” LeBron says, sounds wrecked and apologetic. His breathing is harsh against Steph’s cheek. “Too much.” He lets go of Steph’s wrists and catches one of his hands, brings it up between them and kisses Steph’s palm.</p><p>“S’good,” Steph says, squeezes his legs on either side of LeBron’s thigh. He fumbles with the tie on his robe and pushes it open, so he’s exposed to LeBron. “Get me off?” he asks, has the sense LeBron needs something to focus on.</p><p>LeBron nods, forehead against the wall next to Steph, and he rocks his thigh forward for Steph. Every time he shifts the muscle flexes, and Steph’s cock slides along it between them, bumping deliciously into a ridge of muscle, movement eased by his dripping precome.</p><p>“Look at you,” LeBron chokes out. “Goddamn.” He turns his head and the only thing he can get his mouth on is Steph’s ear, and he lips at it, catches the lobe in his teeth and worries it.</p><p>It doesn’t take long, Steph is so hard all he can focus on is the slide of skin on skin, his dick brushing through the soft hair on LeBron’s thigh. He lets out a whimpering sound that would embarrass him except for the groan it pulls from LeBron, the way his body shakes against Steph. He extends his thigh a bit, experimentally, and bumps LeBron’s dick, fully erect and smearing against LeBron’s lower abdomen.</p><p>Steph pleads incoherently for LeBron to <em>keep going, keep, fuck</em>, and comes against his thigh, head thudding back against the wall. He reaches down without looking, gets a hand on LeBron in the haze of his own orgasm. Even if the angle’s not quite what he’s used to he knows how to make it good. LeBron’s right on the edge anyway, comes hard, dick pulsing spurts of come so thick Steph wonders if LeBron’s already got a knot for him, if he’d have tied Steph right there against the wall if he’d offered.</p><p>LeBron slumps forward against him, seems like maybe he’s only held up by the wall and Steph’s steadying arms loose around his waist.</p><p>“You rutting?” Steph asks noses against LeBron’s collarbone, trying to scent it. He likes holding him like this, warm expanse of skin on skin a contrast to the fluffy robes. He can’t smell anything but them.</p><p>LeBron shakes his head. “Bellhop was Alpha,” he says.</p><p>“Oh, so this is some aggro possessive thing?” Steph asks, teasing lightly.</p><p>LeBron hugs him tight, face buried into Steph’s shoulder. His breathing is still labored.</p><p>“Hey,” Steph says, runs a hand up and down LeBron’s back. “You good?” He pushes LeBron gently at the shoulders, so they can look at each other. “Cuz I’m good,” he says, glances down at the smear of come on both their legs and stomachs with a smirk.</p><p>“I have never reacted like that,” LeBron tells him earnestly, is obviously forcing himself to make eye contact. Steph hates the fear and shame he sees on his face.</p><p>“S’okay,” he says, gripping at LeBron’s shoulders. “We’re okay.”</p><p>“I realized he could, that you were right there, and he could smell you.” LeBron shakes his head. “I’ve heard guys talk about it, but I’ve never had that snap.” He seems like he’s settling down some, but his brow is furrowed as he looks at Steph. “I could’ve hurt you.”</p><p>That’s probably true. He’s got half a foot and about eighty pounds on Steph, and there wouldn’t have been any shaking him if he hadn’t wanted to let go.</p><p>“You did tell me to give you a minute,” Steph counters, because what matters here is they’re both fine and he wants to get LeBron out of his head. “Like you said, both new to this, right?” LeBron gives him a slow nod, and Steph nods back. “So no catastrophizing, okay?”</p><p>“Catastrophizing?” LeBron repeats, incredulous. “Hell kinda word is that?”</p><p>“Kinda word they use somewhere there’s a whole bunch of earthquakes,” Steph retorts, grinning.</p><p>LeBron laughs then, and Steph’s heart swells, laughs right along with him. “Whatever man, you made that up.”</p><p>“I did not!” Steph protests. “You can go ahead and google it.” He nods towards the food cart. “Set up breakfast? Imma go clean up.”</p><p>He wipes himself down in the bathroom, doesn’t put in too much effort since he knows they’re far from done. He brings a damp cloth with him for LeBron when he comes back to the living room.</p><p>There’s quite a spread of food on the counter, steaming mugs of coffee by each place setting. LeBron’s adjusting things, making a <em>presentation</em> for Steph, and he glances up when Steph draws close.</p><p>“Hey,” he says. “Almost done.”</p><p>“C’mere,” Steph replies, tugs him in with a hand to the back of his neck and kisses him. “Gotta clean you up,” he says, reaches between them with the washcloth, feels LeBron twitch at the first brush of it, then relax, into the kiss, into Steph’s touch.</p><p>He hums contentedly against Steph’s lips. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Course,” Steph replies, tips his head and looks up at LeBron though his eyelashes. He likes the way LeBron looks down at him, how he bites his lip and grins like he can’t help it.</p><p>Steph returns the washcloth to the bathroom and when he comes out LeBron has put the finishing touches on everything, more sour patch kids from wherever he’s hiding his stash have made their way to Steph’s plate, a splash of color.</p><p>“Man,” he shakes his head, grinning wide enough his face hurts. LeBron’s so sweet it makes him feel goofy, with the candy and breakfast and how he’s so damn invested in making it good for him.</p><p>LeBron kisses the back of his neck. “Sit,” he says. “Let’s eat.”</p><p>They flip on the TV, let Family Guy run quiet in the background. Steph cracks a joke about something, and they talk about nothing for a while. Steph tries to be subtle about checking LeBron out while he eats. It’s times like this he remembers there’s only three years between them, for all LeBron has been in the league a lot longer.</p><p>“See something you like?” LeBron asks, glancing sideways at Steph as he shoves his last piece of bacon into his mouth.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph says, easy. He reaches out and bumps LeBron’s calf with his foot.</p><p>LeBron shakes his head, grins at him. Steph bumps him again and LeBron grabs his foot and pulls it into his lap, tipping Steph off-balance.</p><p>“Hey!” he yelps, laughing.</p><p>“Mine now,” LeBron says, matter-of-fact, and Steph slouches in his chair and makes a face at him as he pops another grape in his mouth.</p><p>LeBron looks at him for a minute, and Steph can’t quite read his expression.</p><p>“What?” he asks, snags a strawberry from the fruit tray.</p><p>“Still can’t believe you said yes,” LeBron says, presses his thumbs into the arch of Steph’s foot.</p><p>“Oh god,” Steph moans. He’s a sucker for a foot massage, if the pressure is firm enough not to tickle. LeBron’s hands are incredible. “Yes to what?” he manages to ask.</p><p>LeBron chuckles, looking down at Steph’s foot as he continues his ministrations.</p><p>“Yes to take your heat with me.”</p><p>“Like I was gonna say no?” Steph replies, baffled.</p><p>LeBron rolls his knuckles up along Steph’s arch, kneads them into the ball of his foot. His face does something Steph can’t pin down. He wiggles his foot in LeBron’s lap.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, waits until LeBron looks up. “I’m so into you it makes me stupid,” he says. “I used to think about if you’d come back to the locker room that game at Davidson,” he bites off the rest of that sentence, not wanting to sound like too much of a fanboy.</p><p>“Yeah?” LeBron asks, waggles his eyebrows, voice dipping low. “What’d I do in the locker room?” He keeps his hands moving on Steph’s foot, works his palm against Steph’s callused heel.</p><p>Steph flushes. “You came back, and you waited for everyone to leave, except me. And I left my uniform on, because I could tell you liked the way I looked in it.”</p><p>“That’s damn right,” Lebron mutters. One hand slips up Steph’s foot to rub at his ankle, and Steph moans again. “Go on,” LeBron tells him.</p><p>“Most of the time you walk me back against the lockers, tell me you like my game.” In the fantasies Steph has built up around that night over the years there’s a wide variety, but that detail is always the same. LeBron tells him he likes his game, kisses him. Kissing him in real life is better than Steph had ever imagined.</p><p>“Then what?” LeBron asks. His hands have stilled, warm and heavy on Steph’s foot now.</p><p>“Sometimes I go down on you,” Steph says. That was a go-to when he needed to get off fast, tired before bed or trying to hurry up in the shower. “Sometimes you’d fuck me up against the lockers.”</p><p>“Finger yourself thinking about it?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph nods, too turned on to be embarrassed at this point.</p><p>LeBron lets Steph’s foot slide from his lap, stands up. “Show me,” he says, and gestures to the bedroom.</p><p>“Oh,” Steph says. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He stands up, and his erection tents the front of his robe.</p><p>LeBron grins at him. “Be right there.”</p><p>Steph sheds the robe and grabs his Davidson shirt, grins to himself as he pulls it back on, fishes the lube from the bedside table where LeBron put it the night before. He debates waiting for him, can hear him moving around in the kitchen. He pops the cap on the lube and smears it on his fingers, reaches between his legs and strokes across his hole. It’s the most familiar thing he’s done in the last 48 hours, and he grins at the thought. The skin around his entrance is superheated, so sensitive his thighs twitch every time he makes contact. He can tell how hard up he is for it, knows he needs a knot soon. The idea that he’ll get to take LeBron’s makes him feel crazy.</p><p>“Damn,” LeBron says, stops in tracks when he enters the room. He clears his, throat, nods. "You really are something else." He drags his gaze up from Steph’s spread legs to his face. Then he smirks. “Alright, Wildcat.” He slides his robe off and drapes it on the chair next to Steph’s, settles on the bed at Steph’s feet. “Show me how you like it.”</p><p>Steph nods, heart hammering in his chest. He’s never performed for anyone like this before, briefly tries to think of it like the three-point challenge and quickly shuts that down. He hopes to compete at All-Star weekend many times in his career, if he mixes that up with thoughts of fingering himself for LeBron he will be well and truly fucked.</p><p>LeBron reaches out and bumps him on the ankle with his knuckles. “It’s just you and me,” he says, smiles up at Steph.</p><p>Steph smiles back, nods again. He spreads his legs a little wider, scoots down so he has a better angle, reminds himself that he knows what he’s doing here.</p><p>“Do I leave your jersey on when I fuck you?” LeBron asks, once Steph starts moving his hand again.</p><p>Steph nods, presses his middle finger in to the first knuckle. “You fist it up when you’re inside me,” he says, clenches down at the thought and feels slick trickle out around his finger. “Got my shorts down around my ankles.”</p><p>“Sounds right,” LeBron says.</p><p>“I gotta try to be quiet,” Steph says, working up a rhythm with his finger, getting it deeper. “Don’t want anyone to hear.” He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest when he slides his finger out and gets more lube, goes back with two. “Even though everybody knows, everybody knew it was you’n me left in there.”</p><p>“That get you hot?” LeBron asks. “Everybody knowing I’m fucking you?”</p><p>Steph nods, manages to keep eye contact but bites down on his lip hard. He crosses his middle finger over his index finger, twists his wrist around, hips canting up. He wants to close his eyes, would close his eyes if he were in bed alone, to picture LeBron inside him. But LeBron’s right here with him, and his gaze is so intense Steph feels unhinged.</p><p>“Can you touch me?” he asks, two fingers inside. “Just, anywhere.”</p><p>“Yeah,” LeBron says, scoots up closer and cups Steph’s calf with his left hand. “That good? Or you need something more?”</p><p>“No that’s, that’s good,” Steph says, nods. His chest is heaving, and he can feel the light sheen of sweet starting to cover his body, shirt sticking to him in places. He’s not even working that hard, shakes his head at himself.</p><p>He gets three fingers inside, slow, keeps his breath even. He rarely goes to three if he’s not working up to anything. LeBron’s fingers slide back and forth along the muscle of his leg, gentling.</p><p>“I finger you like this in the locker room?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph shakes his head, laughs. “Nah, we get straight to it.”</p><p>LeBron chuckles along with him. “Man, I’d get on my knees and eat you out,” he says, and Steph clenches down around his fingers and groans, works himself against his hand. “Make you come on my tongue, nothing quiet about it.”</p><p>Steph’s hips jerk up at the memory of last night, and precome dribbles from his dick.</p><p>“Easy,” LeBron says, reaching up, to still his wrist. “You real close?”</p><p>Steph nods, doesn’t trust his voice.</p><p>“Let me?” LeBron asks, crawling up the bed to lay between Steph’s spread legs.</p><p>Steph pulls his fingers wetly from his hole, shudders at the sudden emptiness. LeBron warms the lube on his fingers and presses one inside, gentle, rubbing it back and forth even as he thrusts it deeper in. He pulls a series of moans from Steph, no longer in control of the pressure, or able to anticipate the sensation. Steph doesn’t want to come yet, not with only one finger inside, and he grips at the base of his cock to steady himself for a minute.</p><p>Lebron looks up at him but doesn’t say anything, smears more lube on his hand and goes back with two fingers. His fingers are broader, so it’s closer to three of Steph’s, and he scissors them around, stroking inside Steph like he’s trying to map him out, find every spot inside that’ll make him buck and beg.</p><p>He finds one, and Steph’s feet slip on the covers as he tries to keep himself from thrusting up wildly. LeBron nudges his legs wider, and Steph whimpers, one hand on his head and the other balled at his side. He’s never had anyone take him apart like this.</p><p>“I think I’m gonna come,” he says, voice breaking on the last word as LeBron twists his fingers.</p><p>“Think you can take three?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph huffs a laugh. “Might come when you try, but yeah.”</p><p>LeBron smirks at him. “Guess we’ll see,” he says, and gets more lube, even though Steph is a mess already and the blankets under him are wet probably through to the sheets. He strokes across Steph’s entrance a few times, all three fingers together, then presses them close to each other and pushes inside. Steph can take it, is loose enough and needy enough for it, but LeBron’s barely past the second knuckle when he gets Steph against the prostate. He comes untouched with his fists balled in the comforter, gripping it like he thinks it’ll keep him grounded somehow.</p><p>LeBron keeps fucking him on his fingers, and Steph’s a desperate mess the whole way through so when the stimulation tips to the wrong side of too much he has to reach down and grab at him.</p><p>“No more,” he pleads.</p><p>LeBron slides his fingers out carefully, wipes them off on the ruined blankets and crawls up over Steph’s body. He doesn’t settle against him, mindful Steph’s still sensitive, but he lowers his head and bumps his nose to Steph’s, sharing breath until Steph meets him for a kiss. LeBron rolls onto his side next to Steph, rests a steadying hand on Steph’s hip.</p><p>“Bout ready for a knot?” he asks.</p><p>Steph nods. “Not right now,” he clarifies, and LeBron chuckles with him. “But yeah, next time, I think.” He exhales, turns to look at LeBron and gives him a wry smile. “Probably could’ve taken it first thing this morning, being real with you.”</p><p>“Sexy as hell,” LeBron says. They sit there in silence for a minute, Steph catching his breath, and then LeBron scoots back to sit up against the pillows.</p><p>“Some of the stuff I was reading said it can be more intense to take a knot outside a clinic.”</p><p>Steph turns to look at him, tugs his shirt off overhead as he sits up, and then wraps his arms around his knees. “Yeah?”</p><p>LeBron nods. “Something about how sterile and impersonal they are, and the Alphas all have to have, you know, pretty average dicks.”</p><p>Steph throws his head back and laughs. “You worried I can’t take your knot?”</p><p>LeBron flushes, shakes his head even while he’s laughing along with Steph. “Whatever, man. I’m just saying, it’s part of the equation, right?”</p><p>“Right, right,” Steph concedes, waves his hand. “Go on.”</p><p>“Nah,” LeBron shrugs. “They were saying that if it’s a lot, like, that’s normal. Don’t let it fuck with you.”</p><p>Steph nods. It’s good to know. He’s never really had much of a response to a knot, but everything with LeBron has felt like he’s dialed up to eleven. He shifts back to settle against LeBron, shoulders brushing.</p><p>“It’s so hot to me you Googled this,” Steph tells him.</p><p>LeBron barks a laugh. “My internet skills turn you on?”</p><p>“Nah,” Steph says, holds his gaze. “You thought about it, you know? Thought about me.”</p><p>LeBron nods. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “Think about you all the damn time.”</p><p>Steph has to kiss him at that, slick press of lips, sweet. They trade kisses for a while, unhurried, and it’s not until Steph shifts to get himself a better angle that he can tell his body is starting to get interested in the proceedings. He pushes up on his knees and straddles LeBron, almost surprised at himself.</p><p>LeBron looks thrilled, hands resting automatically on Steph’s thighs.</p><p>“Yeah?” he asks.</p><p>Steph nods, bites his lip as he leans forward over him. “Want it like this.”</p><p>LeBron reaches up to meet him for a kiss, runs his hands up Steph’s thighs and drags his fingernails back down, easy and mindless while they make out. Steph feels like’s he’s lighting up under his touch, everything good, especially the way his dick and balls rub against the firm muscle of LeBron’s abs as they kiss.</p><p>Steph’s breathing heavy before long, dick fattening up again. He can feel LeBron’s erection behind him, and slick seeps from his hole every time it brushes up against his ass.</p><p>“Getting your mess all over me,” LeBron says against his lips, and Steph blushes furiously because yeah, LeBron’s whole lower abdomen is smeared with his slick. “S’good,” LeBron tells him, and he slides a hand up from Steph’s thigh up around his ass, presses a finger at his hole.</p><p>Steph squeezes his thighs against LeBron’s sides, tries to steady himself but can’t bring his legs closed enough for how open he feels.</p><p>“Sit up, baby,” LeBron directs, getting Steph up on his knees so he’s got better access to him. He pours lube in his palm, too much but it looks like maybe he’s a little shaky too. It makes Steph feel like they’re on more equal footing, at least until LeBron get his messy hand back behind Steph again and gets into him with two fingers.</p><p>Steph leans forward, bracing himself on LeBron’s chest, and tries to arch his back, make it easy.</p><p>“So good,” LeBron tells him, working his fingers. Steph’s so wet there’s almost no friction, just blunt pressure. He rocks back against LeBron’s hand, tries to get himself more and can’t get there.  </p><p>“I can take more,” he says. “Need more.”</p><p>“Okay,” LeBron nods. “I got you.” He adds a third finger, and that’s getting there, that’s better.</p><p>“I don’t want to come on your fingers again,” Steph tells him, serious. LeBron looks hesitant, and Steph shakes his head. “I mean it, Bron. I need you to knot me up.” He thinks he might lose it if he comes empty one more time, has needed this for hours, body screaming for it.</p><p>LeBron working him with three fingers, and he’s expert with them, Steph’s already experienced that, stroking and twisting. Steph whines with how good it is, and how much he needs something more now.</p><p>“Please,” he says, “you gotta fuck me.”</p><p>“Lemme go four,” LeBron tries, reaching back with the lube again.</p><p>Steph catches his wrist, shakes his head. “I can’t,” he pleads, voice breaking. “I’m ready,” he says. LeBron’s concern is wonderful, truly, but Steph will murder him if he drags this out any longer.</p><p>He’s reaching back behind him for LeBron’s dick, trying to keep himself balanced and LeBron steadies him by the hips.</p><p>“Hey, hey,” LeBron says, catching his hands and holding them until he gets Steph to make eye contact. “Steph, let me.”</p><p>Steph feels a sob caught in his throat, nostrils flaring, but LeBron at least seems to get it, get how bad he needs it.</p><p>“Let me,” LeBron says again. “I got you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Steph nods. “Okay.” He drops his hands back to LeBron’s chest, and LeBron lines them up and finally, <em>finally</em>, Steph feels the head of his dick nudging up against his entrance.</p><p>LeBron has one hand on Steph’s hip, is guiding his dick with the other. He’s trying to set the pace, help Steph ease onto him, but Steph has the leverage in this position and desperation on his side. He thrusts back against LeBron, bearing down to take as much of him at once as he can. The tip pushes through the ring of muscle, and Steph’s ready for it, sloppy wet and loose but he still feels so full it takes all the air out of him.</p><p>“God,” he gasps, chest heaving, fingers curling against LeBron’s chest. “Oh, oh, fuck.”</p><p>“Steph, baby,” LeBron says, fingers digging white into Steph’s hips.</p><p>Steph fights to catch his breath, rocks his hips, because he needs the reminder he’s in control here.</p><p>LeBron makes a wounded noise, eyes fixed on Steph like he’s some kind of minor deity.</p><p>“It’s good,” Steph says, finally, gulping air. He’s never felt like he does with LeBron inside him, can’t even explain how it’s different except when he clenches around LeBron he feels like he’s never been this full and he hasn’t even had his knot yet.</p><p>“You gonna move?” he asks, a half laugh. He can feel sweat beading at his forehead, trickling down his neck.</p><p>“If I move I’m gonna knot you,” LeBron says, sounds like the words are punching themselves out from his chest.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steph tells him. “Yeah, I’m good for it.”</p><p>LeBron releases his bruising grip on one of Steph’s hips, grabs one of his hands and tangles their fingers together. Steph uses the leverage to sit back, takes LeBron almost all the way in and rides him, rolling his hips against him. LeBron matches his movement, thrusts into him and Steph clenches around him.</p><p>Turn out he’s not good for it, not at all ready for the feel of LeBron coming into him, his knot swelling and tying them up. Steph thinks he might’ve blacked out for a second, feels like he’s come out of himself, and it’s amazing but it’s too much, way too much. He’s wild with it and fully out of control.</p><p>“Bron,” he chokes out, barely coherent. He’s riding LeBron erratically, chasing the edge of mind-blowing pleasure that keeps taking him under. LeBron’s already sat up so Steph is cradled between his knees and his chest, and Steph claws at his back, legs seizing uselessly on either side of LeBron’s body. LeBron keeps thrusting, gentle as he can, because it’s too much but it’s what Steph needs, what his body is begging for. He comes, sobbing, come splattering against LeBron’s chest, and half a breath later Steph feels like he’s coming again, nothing but slick.</p><p>“God, I can’t,” he says open-mouthed to LeBron’s shoulder. He’s starting to feel panicky, needs relief from this overwhelming fullness and knows he can’t get it. He shudders and again comes without his dick.</p><p>“Breathe,” LeBron says, smooths his hands up Steph’s back. “Steph, babe, I need you to breathe.” He catches Steph under the arms and guides him upright, careful, because every movement shifts his cock inside Steph and makes him cry out, way past too sensitive.</p><p>“Are you hurting?” LeBron asks, and it isn’t until LeBron’s wiping at Steph’s tears with his thumbs that he even realizes he’s crying.</p><p>Steph shakes his head, takes in a ragged breath, because LeBron looks so damn concerned, and he can’t have that, not for this.</p><p>“No,” he says, hiccoughing a sob, reaches up to press the heels of his hands to his eyes. He takes a deep breath, exhales, again. “No, it’s. Fuck,” he exhales, laughs shakily as he lowers his hands back to LeBron’s shoulders. “If that’s what the internet meant by more intense, they really undersold it,” he says.</p><p>LeBron laughs, disbelieving. “No shit.” He puts his hands on Steph’s wrists, runs them up to his elbows and back down, soothing.</p><p>“I’ve never come like that,” Steph says, shaking his head. “I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know I could come like that.”</p><p>“Babe,” LeBron says, gentle, and Steph’s not entirely certain when they switched to pet name territory, but he decides he likes it.</p><p>“Sorry I,” he stops, hunts out the words. “Sorry I worried you.”</p><p>“Nuh-uh,” Lebron cups his face, strokes his thumb across Steph’s cheek. “No, nothing to be sorry for.”</p><p>Steph nuzzles into his touch, exhales heavily. Now his breathing has slowed out, his body has relaxed around LeBron, and it doesn’t send sparks behind his eyes anymore when he moves.</p><p>“It can’t be like that every time,” he says, half to himself.</p><p>“We probably went past when you needed it,” LeBron says. “Seemed like you lost your breath and couldn’t get it back for a minute.”</p><p>Steph nods, experiments with leaning forward to lean against LeBron’s chest.</p><p>“That okay for you?” he asks.</p><p>LeBron shifts around, impossibly careful as he brings his legs in closer, lets them splay wide so there’s less pressure on his dick.</p><p>“There,” he says, holding Steph to him. Steph puts his head against LeBron’s shoulder, palm flat over his heart.</p><p> </p><p>Steph doesn’t mean to fall asleep but he does, briefly anyway. He wakes up drooling on LeBron’s chest and pushes off him, bright red.</p><p>“You should’ve woken me up,” he says, embarrassed, wiping away his saliva.</p><p>LeBron chuckles. “Only been out maybe fifteen minutes.”</p><p>They’re still tied up, and Steph rocks back against him, tentative. He feels back in control of himself now, and the sensation of fullness has shifted from <em>fuck, too much </em>to <em>fuck yes</em>. Steph bites at his lip and moves so he’s straddling LeBron square on again.</p><p>“This good?” he asks, just to be sure.</p><p>LeBron grins up at him. “Tell me what part of this I’m supposed to object to.”</p><p>Steph swats at his chest. “I’m being considerate,” he says, rolling his hips to punctuate his point.</p><p>Not sure it does anything for his point, but LeBron’s eyes go dark and his hands settle back on Steph’s hips again, encouraging the movement.</p><p>This time, when Steph rides LeBron’s knot the wave of pleasure doesn’t take him under. He plays around, seeing how far he can lift up before it catches, alternates between a short jerky movement and a slow saddle-roll of his hips. LeBron keeps a steady rhythm under him, gives him something to work off. Steph’s letting out breathy moans, thrusting into his fist as he moves, and he’s not close, yet, but he’s getting there.</p><p>“Want me to come in you again?” LeBron asks, teases a finger along Steph’s rim where he’s stretched out around his cock.</p><p>Steph moans, nods. “Need you to fill me up,” he says, likes the way Bron does a full-body shudder under him.</p><p>“Can I put you on your back?” LeBron asks, “Or you feel better setting the pace?”</p><p>Steph nods, wonders if maybe it would’ve been easier that way in the first place.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says, and squeezes his knees to LeBron’s side, holds onto his shoulders as LeBron pushes up, holds Steph low around the waist so they’re pressed together, and flips them.</p><p>There’s a moment of readjustment. Steph hadn’t realized how close his knees were to cramping up until he can stretch his legs out, lets them fall wide. LeBron grabs a pillow, slides it under Steph’s hips so it’s less work to keep their angle good. But then LeBron settles forward with his elbows bracketing Steph’s head and starts thrusting, and. Yeah. Steph is pretty sure they should’ve started with this. He hooks his ankles behind LeBron’s thighs and holds onto his biceps and they’re touching everywhere, LeBron the only thing he can see or smell or feel.</p><p>“You’re amazing,” LeBron says, dropping his head so he’s right against Steph’s ear, and Steph turns to try to catch his mouth for a kiss, gets his bottom lip first, and then his stubbled chin, because he’s playing. LeBron smiles, gets his mouth, and they kiss, mostly panting against each other as they thrust.</p><p>LeBron’s chest starts heaving before Steph’s, and Steph can feel the muscles in his arms bunching as he gets close.</p><p>“Yeah,” he encourages. “Give it to me,” he says, clenching down on LeBron’s knot.</p><p>LeBron comes with a shuddering groan, panting Steph’s name against his neck. Steph’s pretty sure he can feel LeBron’s come seeping out of his hole and that’s so hot he can’t think straight. He works his hips harder to make up for LeBron’s loss of rhythm, jacking himself, dick slippery with pre-come. It’s not long before the knot catches him against the prostate and he lifts his hips up to keep that angle, fucks down on it, and comes. He’s got his forehead pressed into LeBron’s shoulder, fingers digging into his other bicep.</p><p>They’re quiet for a minute, then LeBron shifts so he can get a look at Steph’s face.</p><p>“Better like that?”</p><p>Steph nods. “So much better.”</p><p>LeBron chuckles, settles down against him and brushes his hand along Steph’s cheek. “My knot’s down. I’m gonna pull out now, you ready?”</p><p>Steph huffs a laugh. “I guess we’ll find out. Don’t go fast.”</p><p>“Hell nah,” LeBron says. “Nice and easy.”</p><p>He eases back, slow and careful like he said, and slips out of Steph’s body in a mess of slick and come.</p><p>“I’m right here,” he says immediately, pulling Steph to his chest before he has a chance to register the overwhelming sense of emptiness and loss that slams into him.</p><p>Steph doesn’t try to talk, clings to LeBron. He feels hollow inside, feels like he’s leaking, and his chest aches with some kind of untethered grief.</p><p>“Oh man,” he says at last. “That’s. That’s something.”</p><p>“Can I clean you up?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph’s thoughts track to the bathroom and he thinks of that big bathtub.</p><p>“Let’s take a bath,” he says, relaxing his vice grip somewhat.</p><p>LeBron makes a pleased sound. “Sounds real good,” he says. He sits up, and Steph still feels a little fragile at the loss, but it’s manageable.</p><p>LeBron gets up to run the bath and Steph takes his time getting out of bed. He feels like he can’t quite trust his legs. The bed is trashed, and Steph feels disgusting as soon as he stands up, his mess and LeBron’s drying on his inner thighs and matting in his pubic hair.</p><p>LeBron has a dish of candy and a pitcher of water on a serving tray next to the tub, and Steph smiles when he sees it, sneaks one when he thinks LeBron’s not looking and grins when he gets caught. They’re for him anyway.  </p><p>LeBron helps him into the tub, and then he offers his hand to LeBron, and they settle in with each other back-to-front. LeBron’s got a washcloth soaped up and he slides it over Steph’s body, starts where he’s least sensitive, his arms, his back, and gradually works his way south.</p><p>Steph takes over when he reaches his hole, the angle is bad and he’s so sensitive, physically and emotionally both, he thinks it’ll be better if he’s in control. He drapes the rag over the towel bar when he’s done, watches the way bubbles of soap drop into the water. LeBron used what has to be half a bottle of bubble bath, and Steph keeps catching them and giving himself various styles of facial hair.</p><p>“Better watch out or your face’ll freeze like that,” LeBron tells him, flicking his ear.</p><p>“Except we both know I can’t grow facial hair for shit,” Steph counters matter-of-factly, gesturing to his face.</p><p>LeBron laughs and reaches around to feed him another piece of candy.</p><p>“Next time we should start on my back,” Steph says mindlessly. “Knot’s better that way.”</p><p>“Next time tomorrow or next All-Star?” LeBron asks.</p><p>Steph can’t see his face, can’t tell if he’s fucking around, or challenging, or serious. And if he’s serious, well, Steph didn’t really mean to assume anything, but he’s not opposed if LeBron’s not.</p><p>Into Steph’s overthinking silence, LeBron continues. “I’m cool either way, just trying to get my calendar straight.”</p><p>Steph laughs, and LeBron laughs with him, grazes a kiss against Steph’s temple.</p><p>“You wanna do this next year?” Steph asks, somehow disbelieving even after the way LeBron’s been into him all weekend. He’d figured it was a one-time deal.</p><p>“If you can put up with me,” LeBron says, shrugs. “Do this every year for the rest of our careers.”</p><p>Steph blinks sharply against a sudden wave of emotion he doesn’t know what to do with, and he turns, splashing with the abrupt movement, to give LeBron a kiss that’s more heated than either of them has energy to do anything about.</p><p>LeBron chuckles, grins against his mouth. “Guess I’ll book a suite again.”</p><p>“You better,” Steph tells him, settling back down. “I think I got a few years till I can swing the fancy digs.” He lets his head roll back on LeBron’s shoulder.</p><p>“May be sooner than you think,” LeBron says, crossing his arms over Steph’s chest. “The league’s not gonna know what hit ‘em.”</p><p>Steph basks in the praise, hooks his hands on LeBron's forearms and relaxes against him. Maybe next year he’ll be an All-Star too. Maybe someday he’ll get to play on LeBron’s team. It’s a nice thought.</p><p> </p>
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